


after all

by h0neybeebear



Category: Gentleman Jack (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Sex, Episode Tag, F/F, Getting Back Together, Hurt/Comfort, Lesbian Sex, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-27 15:49:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19015960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/h0neybeebear/pseuds/h0neybeebear
Summary: Their parting, though short in days, seemed long upon the hours, far too long to endure in any sane manner. What with her ill-conceived plan of the purse and the fruit basket, it was a wonder Anne herself had not regarded her a half wit. She could only be grateful now that Anne believed her on the matter of Mr. Ainsworth, for at times she knew not what to believe in her own head nor how to distinguish her own desires. With Anne pressed hard against her, she found herself certain for the first time in as many days as they had been separated.(Post episode 4, Ann and Anne reunite in the wake of Ann's confession about Ainsworth)





	after all

Silence had enveloped sitting room, and all of Crow's Nest had seemed to swear to the solemn quiet, save for the tick off the clock and the brief chirping of birds from beyond the window. 

She was still trembling, and she knew she would tremble for a long time to come. She always did when the fearfulness and the anxieties reached that point that was too sharp and painful too ignore; when she could scarcely breathe around the fist of dread in her throat and her stomach turned with the possibilities.

She had lived with the emotional toll of her life for quite some time now, and she'd thought, perhaps, she'd finally be able to grapple with it with Anne's help. She'd felt truly happy for the first time in years, but it hadn't lasted much longer than a month or two. The Reverend Ainsworth had returned, always finding a way to creep into her circle, charming or manipulating all that stood between them. Being unable to confess to Anne the extent of the relationship had been the most debilitating part of the entire debacle, and the wedge that had driven them apart, even more unbearable.

The tears had come and gone, then come and gone again, and though exhaustion plagued Ann's body, some part of her was beginning to feel alive with relief. With her confession fresh on Anne's ears, Ann felt as though she could breathe again.

Anne's words still echoed gently in her ear.  _ You have nothing more to fear from him... _

It seemed as though she'd underestimated Miss Lister yet again, imagining that a woman such as herself who would never lie with a man much less think of it, might reject Ann for her impurities. A woman such as her who held so firmly to her ideals might impune her for the sin, but instead of faulting her, Anne held her, whispering words of comfort. Rather than push her away, she swore to protect her. It was more than anyone had ever done for her.

Anne was stroking her curls, and Ann pressed her nose into her neck, smearing tears against her cravat and great coat. She'd missed her so, the smell of her, the taste of her, the intimate feel of her body.

Lifting her head, she met Anne's dark eyes, and Anne attempted a smile, stroking her cheek with her thumb. She always hid a great deal behind her gaze, even now, but Ann could see the emotion clearly upon her face in the waning sunlight.

"Anne…" She began to whisper.

"There…" Anne murmured, her tone taut and husky as she averted her eyes to a curl that she was smoothing back from Ann's forehead.

"I don't want to be here anymore." Ann whispered, reaching up to catch her hand.

Anne's eyes turned back to her, and she stroked her thumb over cheek again.

"Where shall I take you?" She asked, softly  "Anywhere. Name a place, and I will see to it that we arrive."

"I just want to be… with you." Ann whispered, turning her face into Anne's hand, savoring the warmth of her hand that she had so missed.

"I'm here, darling."

"Upstairs." Ann murmured, pressing her mouth and her tears to Anne's palm. "Together."

Anne hesitated, ducking her head. She leaned in slowly until her forehead was against Ann's, and Ann could feel her breath upon her cheek.

"Are you certain?" She asked, sliding her hand down Ann's arm to catch her fingers.

"Yes." Ann whispered, her heart taking up a shallow pace in her chest.

She ached to be free of all social etiquette and confinements, and throw herself upon the bed of their passion. She desired to leave restraint at the door and forget the world, to cast off all her burdens and find peace within Anne's arms. It was all she had wanted for these torturous days of solitary suffering.

"Come." Anne whispered, her voice rough as she rose.

Ann's heart tripped in her chest as Anne intertwined their fingers and  pulled her from the couch. Her pace was as quick and purposeful as ever as she lead them towards the door, and Ann stumbled after her, her glossy eyes adoring the back of Anne's head.

As the entered the front hall, they were met by James who had just stepped inside the door. They drew up, releasing their fingers from one another as he eased the door shut, and turned to meet them.

"Ma'am." He greeted them with a nod.

"James." Anne replied, politely, though her shoulders seemed tense, her tone preoccupied.

"James, I'm going to lie down." Ann told him, struggling not to sound breathless. "I won't take any visitors."

"Yes, ma'am." He complied with another nod, his expression belying nothing of curiosity.

"Thank you, James." She whispered as Anne took her arm and echoed her sentiments.

He turned back towards the door in a watchful manner, and they exchanged a quick glance before Anne rushed them towards the stairs.

Anne's boots hit the hardwood in a rushed beat of urgency, and Ann's slippered feet padded after until they reached the top. Ann's heart was expanding intensely against her ribs as Anne pushed her bedroom door open and stepped in ahead of her.

Ann pressed the door shut hard with the weight of her body, and stood there, staring directly back at Anne.

 Her legs felt weak, and she wanted to collapse again, collapse into Anne's arms, but for a moment she could not speak, overcome by the sight of Miss Lister again in her bedroom.

Anne stood across from her, her hands clenched at her sides. Her curls and bun were askew, a flush upon her high cheekbones, and her eyes that were so often soft towards Ann held a shimmer, a lingering rage in the wake of her confession glossed over by the kindling desire. Ann sank against the door, overcome by the intensity of her presence and the knowledge of what she was going to do to her. Lost in the heady rush of desire, she waited her Anne to understand her silence as compliance until, at last, she could not stand the vibrating tension that existed between.

"Anne…" She whispered, her voice rough, tears still reaching up her throat.

Anne seemed to flinch despite her softly spoken plea, and she broke suddenly from where she stood. In two long strides, she was pressed against Ann's body, one hand around her waist, the other sinking into her hair. Ann moaned as she felt Anne's mouth upon her jaw and neck, her teeth scraping across the ridge of her chin and downwards. Her hands were desperate, crushing Ann's puffed sleeves, nails scraping along the barrier of her corset.

Ann sagged against the door, her head tilted back as a stray tears slipped from her cheek. It was a relief, such sweet relief, to feel her here against her again, in the protection of her arms. The unfettered passion spilling over her staunch waistcoat and cool facade only pressed more firmly the reality of what she could've lost into Ann's body.

"I'm sorry…" Ann whispered, her eyes pressing shut as Anne drew her petticoats into a fist against her thigh. "I'm so sorry…"

Anne's breath was heavy against her collarbone as she pressed her forehead to Ann's shoulder.

"Please… I beg of you not to say that again." She whispered roughly, planting a kiss against Ann's chest.

"B-but I…." Ann whimpered, turning her face down against Anne's cheek. "I sent you off with a ridiculous answer. I-"

"Hush." Anne ordered, lifting her head to gaze into her eyes. "It doesn't matter now.It only matters that you've told me."

She leaned in, and Ann closed her eyes as their mouths joined, open and wanting.

It was ever a battle to forget her anxieties, but when Anne held her and kissed it, it seemed all that much easier.

Spreading her hands up Anne's chest, she took hold of the lapels of her coat, and pushed it back over her shoulders. If she but felt Anne's skin upon her own, perhaps she could forget in full what horrors invaded her mind. If Anne could paint across the landscape of her memory, and cover her past with each touch of her hand or stroke of her tongue, then perhaps Ann could believe that none of it had ever happened and that it had no further consequence upon her life.

She clung to Anne's neck, and Anne faltered not on her kiss as she extricated herself from the heavy material. Her hands claimed Ann's body as soon as she was free, and she swept her away from the door. They stumbled back towards the bed, their lips trading sweetness and saliva in a desperate tango of kisses until the backs of Ann's legs were pressed to the mattress.

Anne drew back, her gaze conflicted between the rage that she held inside and the comfort that she wanted to give Ann. She was struggling maintain the balance, and it was clear as day to Ann who often felt she stood outside of a wall when it came to Miss Lister. She could be so engaging, and thoughtful, and kind, yet Ann always found herself wanting to ask,  _ What are you thinking? What is it you truly wish to say? When shall I know you to your fullest? _

She nearly spoke it now, her lips hesitantly parting as she stared into Anne's; but as if she had sensed Ann's curiosity, Anne stroked her cheek, took her elbow and urged her towards the bed.

"Turn around." She whispered. "Let me get this off you."

Ann nodded, ducking her head as she turned. She grabbed the sheets, and closed her eyes, trying to cling to air as Anne deftly began to work the buttons of the dress open. There were many, and by the time the dress was slipping down, revealing her corset and petticoats, Ann was past the point of a patience.

Every moment was too long and torturous until Anne's mouth was upon her, her strong hands bearing her upwards from this despair. She'd already spent so much of her life waiting for the next day, the next month, the next year, where she imagined she would be happier. No amount of watching the clock had ever lifted her spirits, but with Anne, she found the seconds and minutes gone, and time existed as something other than a curse. She wanted to be in that weightless, worldless existence immediately, before she lost what was left of her mind.

Tearing her hand from the bed, she grabbed at the stays of her remaining skirts, and yanked on them with a whimper. Her hands were quivering, the desire so sharp that tears pricked her eyes.

"Ann, Ann…." Anne murmured, taking her around the waist and covering her hand with hers. "Shh…."

"I want you.." Ann insisted, emotion clogging her throat as clutched Anne's arm. "I need you. I can't - I-"

"You'll have me." Anne assured her, moving her hand aside to swiftly unlace the petticoats. "All night if you please."

Ann sighed in relief as the heavy skirts slipped to the floor, leaving her in the thin, white knickers. Anne's hand quickly followed, slipping beneath the waistband to cup her tenderly, almost too tenderly, for Ann still felt her passions running high beneath the careful way Anne cradled her.

"Don't be that way…" Ann whispered, tilting her head back against Anne's shoulder.

"What way?" Anne asked, hesitating at her words.

"Treating me like I'm breakable little doll." Ann panted, pressing her hand over Anne's through the material, until she felt the pressure more fully with a moan.

"I don't want to hurt you." Anne murmured, though her voice verged on a groan.

Her fingers were pressing now into Ann's body, two of them curling inside the entrance of her slick, hot body, and Ann could feel her tremble again, the barely concealed emotion she'd felt at their doorway kiss. She sighed with exhilaration.

This was no pretty little thing anymore. They'd hurt each of other with accusatory words and ridiculous ultimatums, and even Ann knew that they could not pretend in delicacy any longer. She did not want delicacy, nor did she want pity. She wanted Anne, and she wanted her in the fullness of her emotions. She so often buttoned herself up as surely as she buttoned up her waistcoat in the morning, and Ann wished she'd leave her defenses crumpled at the door along with the black, silky material that she'd stripped away.

She turned suddenly in Anne's arms, and their eyes met again. Anne's hands hovered along her elbows and waist, prepared to clutch her and press her to the bed at any moment, and yet she vacillated, her gaze raking over Ann's face again and again.

"Do it." Ann whispered, her fingers curling around Anne's waist.

"What?" Anne asked, her lids fluttering, fingers flexing around Ann's arms.

"Whatever it is you're thinking." Ann whispered, breathlessly. "You won't hurt me."

Anne's eyes flicked upwards from Ann's mouth, and their gazes met again. Ann watched the fire flicker beneath the surface of her lover's face before bursting to life in one second. Anne's fingers seized around her arms, dragging her close, and she kissed her as hard and as recklessly as Ann knew that she wanted to.

Their parting, though short in days, seemed long upon the hours, far too long to endure in any sane manner, and Ann had feared for losing her mind as she paced Crow's Nest, watching the clock. What with her ill-conceived plan of the purse and the fruit basket, it was a wonder Anne herself had not regarded her a half wit. She could only be grateful now that Anne believed her on the matter of Mr. Ainsworth, for at times she knew not what to believe in her own head nor how to distinguish her own desires. With Anne pressed hard against her, she found herself certain for the first time in as many days as they had been separated.

Stroking Anne's neck, she mussed her stiff collar and the soft hair which coiled from her bun as their mouths clashed with voracious hunger. Anne's arm tightened around her waist, and she surged into her, taking them both to the sheets.

Ann sighed out as the puffy bed sheets enveloped her, and the weight of Anne's body grounded her to the moment. All surrealism had passed from Ann's mind, the shadow of doubt as to her love for this woman chased away in the light spilling through the bedroom window and the warmth radiating from Anne. She felt tears in her eyes, spilling down her temples as Anne kissed her over and over. A distinction between the lingering pain and the fresh joy of their reunion could not be found, nor did Ann apply herself to discovering it. Instead, she lay beneath Anne, allowing her to passionately kiss her with all energy and feeling that could be drawn out from between them.

Anne's array of kisses swelled her lips, tenderizing her mouth to a wanting orifice, and Ann moaned, at last dissatisfied with only this. She tugged at Anne's cravat, pulling the silky material out from the vest, and unwinding it from her long neck.

Anne was breathing unevenly against her mouth as she reached between them, and slipped through the opening of her drawers. Ann cried out and trembled beneath her as Anne's fingers found her wet and yearning.

Her lids fluttered, but she drew her unsteady gaze towards Anne's, and clung to her dark, brown eyes, the way they graced her flesh. She'd never felt so alive from such a simple look, but in Anne's eyes there was so much more than a commonplace interaction. There was love and adoration, desire and straightforward lust; beneath that a hundred more emotions that Ann could scarcely name. Surely, she still thought of Ainsworth, of their time apart, of the stupid purse, but it was veiled now beneath the rest, and Ann did not dare to tug at the curtain.

Anne sank down, her head resting against Ann's chest as she swirled her fingertips betwixt her swollen, slick lips. Sighing loudly as Anne liked for her to do, Ann tilted her head back into the pillow and spread her thighs. She grabbed Anne's shoulder with one hand and the sheets with the other as the pleasure lengthened inside her. It was the implicit need for Anne's touch her, a persistent ache that she could not describe aloud even when Anne pressed her to.

"Anne…" She breathed, arching her hips towards Anne's hand in a silent plea.

Her head felt dizzy with desire, her body hot like a fever as Anne slipped down against her. She removed her hand only for a moment to peel away the drawers completely and toss them away. She settled back down between Ann's thighs, drawing her moistened fingers along her inner leg. The tickle of her nails caused Ann's stomach to swoon, and she whimpered her desperation.

She was nigh to forgetting all that come before this moment, of all that the reverend had done, of any suitor that was not Anne, and she could not lose sight of that precious release for the sake of her heart and mind - and for Anne's as well.

She tilted her hips towards Anne, and the air rushed out of her when she felt her mouth press close to her. Her nose nuzzled to her curling, blonde hair, and then her mouth was suckling her like a baby upon a breast. She gasped, her fingers losing hold of Anne's shoulder, and she scrabbled over the slippery material of her silky vest until she caught the back of her neck.

Her eyes rolled back, and she knew that all stomach-turning thoughts of Ainsworth were scattered to the wind. It was finally as she desired.

Below her, Anne was spread out between her legs, her collar awry, petticoats bunched around her knees in her hurry, her boots carelessly pressed into the mattress. With Ann's tugging, her bun came loose, her braid untwisting across her neck and shoulders. They were both so quickly undone.

Finding the tail of Anne's braid, Ann tightened her fingers around the thick rope of hair, and dragged her mouth harder against her. Anne moaned against her, her exhales muffled into Ann's flesh though rough and aroused just the same. Her tongue arched against her engorged flesh, and Ann bucked beneath her as she teased the bud of her desire. It was always so simple, what Anne did to her, and yet so complete and all consuming.

Rocking her hips against Anne's mouth, she felt the friction of Anne's tongue increase two-fold, and she writhed beneath her, nearly throwing her mouth off of her. Anne grabbed her leg, panting huskily, her mouth red and wet. Spreading her open, she pinned Ann's knee to the bed, and her head ducked again.

"Oh!" Ann cried out, her whole body seizing in pleasure as her head tossed against the pillow. "Yes, oh, Anne, oh Anne…"

Anne's shoulders rippled, and she surged against her, her fingers dipping beneath her buttocks. She tilted her closer, her jaw widening to accept her fully into her mouth. She was sucking from her surely every drop that Ann's body had to give, and she could scarcely grasp each touch. Rather, she could only feel Anne's mouth as one inundation of pleasure, a force she willingly bowed herself to.

She relished each swirl of Anne's tongue, each suckle of her lips until the pleasure of her touch wound deep into her groin. Her motions became more frantic as she chased after the release, the sweet release that would surely end this string of torturous days and nights. Her bed had been so cold, so empty, and the room had seemed altogether different, not quite her own. Her moistened lids fluttered open, and she felt a cry rise upon her lips as she watched Anne's head between her legs, the only affliction she could allow upon the secret of her nakedness.

The pleasure sharpened, and her mouth drew open for she could feel it coming - the climax, the orgasm, those explicit words that Anne used that seemed so pretty and arousing upon her intelligent tongue.

"Oh…." Ann cried, her lolling back against the pillow as her stomach dipped and tightened.

Her hips rose, and Anne with her as she intuitively felt Ann's pleasure. She knew her body unlike any other, and Ann was suddenly, passionately certain that she never wanted another person to take her place. Man or woman, she cared not. She wanted Anne, and only Anne.

"Anne, Anne, Anne…" She was crying her name, weeping as the pleasure encompassed her.

She clutched Anne's shoulder and her hair, clenching her tight against her as the climax swelled to a peak inside her. Her body twisted and contorted with the force of it, and she heard herself crying aloud, in pleasure and in relief, finally, in happiness.

* * *

Crow's Nest had grown quiet and dark, and Anne sat at the vanity in her shift and a woven, wool blanket around her shoulders. She'd requested paper and ink from James before undressing, and sitting herself at the makeshift table. In the bed, Ann was asleep, having fallen fitfully to sleep in Anne's arms until she had disentangled herself, too restless to close her eyes.

She needed to throw herself upon the page, for the trembling feelings of both anger and love were too much inside her, too strong for her body to hold all at once. How had Miss Walker caught her so, and wrapped her up into a helpless, clinging lover? She felt all at once felt weak and powerful with the height of her desires and passions, and it made her feel quite ill. She'd scarcely felt so much for another person in all her life, and yet when she had heard what Ainsworth had done an incensed rage had filled her veins. She'd wanted to march away from Ann, across Crow's Nest, and beyond until she found the unscrupulous fellow and beat him to a pulp. She'd barely been able to look at Ann's expression of devastation without feeling her throat tighten with nausea, without imagining how Ainsworth had inflicted himself on her. With her genteel disposition she must've easily crumbled to his wishes and manipulations.

She glanced back at Ann's sleeping figure, her pen poised above the page.

_ What shall I do with him? _ She began to write in her sprawling crypthand, her fingers taut about the pen.  _ Perhaps, I shall strip him and drag him through the streets. Perhaps, I shall make an event of it, and publicly shame him until be cannot face even his own reflection. Perhaps, I shall catch him and whip him til he bleeds…it would be fitting for an animal such as he... _

She lifted the pen, her heart pounding steadily in her ears. Her hands trembled, her chest aching, for she knew that she could do none of these. Ann was to be thought of, and with the residents of Halifax's beliefs and sensibilities, they might take as distastefully to Ann as to Mr. Ainsworth. Anne hated to agree upon anything with the reverend, but his actions would no doubt reflect upon Ann as sinfully as they would upon him, and the poor girl had already suffered enough.

_ It will not do. _ She scratched out.  _ I must find some other way to dispose of him. _

Her pen pressed to the page, blotting a thick dot at the end of the sentence. She leaned on her elbow and stroked her fingers through her hair while staring at the words. They needed much refinement before finding themselves inside her journal at Shibden Hall. 

She glanced back at Ann once more. She stirred softly, her lids fluttering, and Anne watched her until she settled once more.

_ Miss W- recants upon her indecision, _ Anne wrote as she turned back to the page. _ Says she wants to marry me, says she loves me. We went up into her room and I gave her a kiss with my mouth, a very good one indeed. I have not decided upon a course of action, but for now it seems we shall be together after all. _

"Anne?"

Anne turned in the chair, startling at the sound of Ann's voice, husky with sleep.

"Yes, dear." She offered her a gentle smile as Ann sat up on her elbows in the bed.

Her blonde hair was free of it's curls and pins, and she appeared as a soft angel amongst the white sheets. Anne gazed upon her appearance, feeling the first hints of peace in her heart since days gone past. She'd had so little time for her weary mind what with Mrs. Priestley's loose lips, the Rawsons and the coal pit, and now the situation with Ainsworth. She clung to the precious moment, acutely aware of just how precious it was.

"What are you doing?" Ann asked.

"I requested some paper from James to write." Anne replied, glancing back at the letters and symbols she'd written.

In the dark, her handwriting seemed tragically cluttered. She felt so overwrought with the whole affair that she almost crumpled it up and told Ann to not mind it all.

She turned when she heard Ann's feet touch the floor, then draw near her.

"What does it say?" Ann asked, hovering behind Anne's shoulder, her fingers slipping into her hair.

"It's only an exercise of the mind." Anne murmured, reaching up to take her hand, and press a kiss to it.

"Is it about me?" Ann pressed, anxiety lining her tone. 

"Some of it." Anne replied, attempting to answer honestly though she'd rather not explain.

Ann needn't worry about Ainsworth or about what she journaled. He would no longer concern her in the near future.

"Is it about Mr. Ainsworth?"

"Some of it." Anne repeated, glancing up at Ann.

Her expression was tense, verging in fearful again, and Anne sighed, pulling her around. Sitting her on her lap, she wrapped her arms around Ann's waist, and slowly patted her hip.

"It's nothing, Ann." She murmured, gazing up at her with a short smile. "I do this to relieve myself of thoughts and feelings, and feel much better for having done it."

Ann chewed her lower lip before she glanced over at Anne, her blue eyes shining in the moonlight.

"What are you going to do with him?" She asked again, her brows furrowed. "I know you said you didn't know, but you are always so certain of yourself, and I cannot imagine that you haven't even the slightest idea-"

"Ann." Anne cut her off softly, and reached up to cup her cheek. "I will quietly remove him from your life. He will be of no further worry to you. I can promise you that."

Ann's gaze bounced over the page of crypthand, and then back to Anne.

"I fear I have lived a sinful life, and that all I do is only an apology for it." She whispered, her eyes glowing brighter as her voice trembled. "To be locked in this mansion alone is some sort of penance that I must fulfill, yet you have come, and...and destroyed it all."

Anne listened to her fraught tone, her heart aching slow and steady for the girl in her arms. She wished to release her from the prison of self doubt and self hatred, yet as soon as she would open the gate, Ann would slam it closed upon herself again. Did she wish to free at all or did she simply not know how? Anne prayed it was only the latter.

"I destroy it because you have done nothing for which to be ashamed." Anne whispered at last, squeezing her arm. "You grow ill of these halls and all these people that would poison you against yourself and against me. I will not have it."

Ann's watery gaze locked on to her again, and she nodded slowly, hesitantly.

"When I'm with you, I believe what you say."

"In time, you'll believe it for yourself." Anne assured her, petting her hair with as much care as she could manage through the emotion slaughtering her chest.

"Don't leave me, Anne." Ann whispered, her mouth trembling. "I could not survive even a fortnight without you."

She threw herself into Anne's chest, her arms tight around her neck, and Anne felt tears burn at the back of her eyes. She slipped her arms slowly around Ann's waist, and rubbed her back for comfort.

She'd often doubted how well they'd get on in the grand scheme of things, and Ann seemed more fragile than ever. She'd always imagined herself courting a woman who would stand and take on the world with her, seeking out qualities within a mate that she most admired, but when it came to Miss Walker, it seemed she lost all thoughts but thoughts of love. Her nervousness and uncertainty only made Anne's determination stronger, while her typical rationalizations fell to the wind. She could hardly doubt it now, so entangled she was in Miss Walker's life and heart.

"Come." She whispered into Ann's hair. "Let's take you back to bed."

"Will you lay with me?" Ann whispered, her arms tight around Anne's neck.

"Of course." Anne assured her, easing them off the chair.

Ann hesitantly let her arms slip from around Anne, and allowed herself to be lead back to the bed. She laid back down, and Anne drew the sheets over her with a smile.

"I promise you have nothing more to fear." She whispered, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. "I will take of care of you."

Ann nodded, her breath wavering with a sigh of what Anne hoped was contentment. She pressed another kiss to her warm temple before she straightened, patting her arm.

"Let me close the ink before it dries up." Anne said, beginning to slip away from the bed.

Ann caught her arm, and she glanced back at Ann. Her eyes held so much pain, and yet so much beauty, and Anne felt her heart clench in her chest. She knew in time she could take away the doubt, if only Ann would let her.

"I love you, Anne." Ann whispered, a tear slipping from her eye. "I do."

Anne glanced downwards, and clasped Ann's hand over hers as she warded off the tears that stung her own eyes.

"And I love you." She whispered roughly, before slipping out of her grasp. "I will be right back."

She went back to the vanity where the paper, ink, and pen lay. Her eyes skipped over the words she had written, her heart beating with more emotions than she'd perhaps allowed herself to write. Impulsively, she took up the pen and added one last line before she closed the inkwell. Her gaze lingered on the script, a smile touching her lips, before she turned back towards the bed. She climbed beneath the sheets, and Ann pressed herself to her, laying against her chest for warmth until her tears became but a distant memory.

By the time morning came, the ink on the page was dried, the crypt and Anne's deepest feelings forever scratched into existence. The morning light dawned upon the journal entry, and the final passage's words,  _ but for now it seems we shall be together after all… and I am happy for it. _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> So I'm backing to licking my wounds after episode six! Thank you all for joining me on the venture of trying to mend my broken heart. Here's to hoping next week won't be so brutal. 
> 
> If you're so inclined, hit me on Tumblr under my new username: dykeofhalifax


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